


Stohess Chronicles II

by He_Can_Live_Online



Series: The Stohess Chronicles [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Complicated Relationships, Explicit Language, M/M, Underage Drinking, i'm awful at writing tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/He_Can_Live_Online/pseuds/He_Can_Live_Online
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt never expected to fall in love at Stohess, nor did he expect it to be with Jean Kirstein. In fact, Marco has no clue what could possibly happen next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Make This Easier

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is the continuation to the first part of the Stohess Chronicles. More soon to come!  
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!

“They’re staring.”  
“Let them stare.”

Marco pressed his face against the desk, pretending that the lingering eyes disappeared once he did so. Jean leaned into him, playing with his hair, his fingers swirling in and out of the dark strands.

“You’re not making this any easier,” Marco breathed into the cool surface of the desk. He turned his head (avoiding the direction of the rest of the class) and looked up at Jean. Jean withdrew his hand, leaning back from the lecture hall desk.

“Sorry Freckles,” he mumbled back. Marco watched as Jean turned his attention to his notes. Marco bit his lip, watching as Jean’s arm moved up and down the page as he furiously scrawled notes on the slideshow at the front of the room.

“I’ll see you after class, alright?”  
Marco nodded, pressing himself back against the wall, avoiding the swarm moving from class to class. He felt Jean’s eyes linger on him, moving up and down his face. He followed as Jean’s eyes rested on his lips.  
“Can I?”

Marco’s heart fluttered. He nodded furiously, glancing around for prying eyes.  
Jean’s own eyes were too quick to miss the gesture.  
“Erm, actually, I’m just gonna go. I can’t be late.”  
Jean stepped back, pulling his messenger bag onto his shoulder, turning away towards the campus lawn. Marco grabbed his arm.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re not-“  
Marco pecked Jean on the lips, their noses rubbing for a mere moment.  
“I’m fine, still getting used to doing it openly,” Marco rushed out, afraid Jean would get the wrong idea. Jean nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. Marco scowled, “Get to class you idiot.”  
Jean raised a hand to his mouth, covering his grin and turned, moving quickly into the crowd. Marco watched as he went further and further, getting lost among the sea of bodies.

“Freckles!”  
Marco groaned.  
“Ey, that’s no way to treat your favorite roommate,” Connie pouted accusingly, sidling beside him.  
“My only roommate.” Marco said, putting strong emphasis on the words.  
“Even more reason not to.”

Marco chose to ignore this.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”  
“It got cancelled, going to the movies with the lady.”  
“That poor girl.” Marco couldn’t imagine Sasha sitting still for an entire class, let alone a movie. Connie flicked the back of his head and paraded past him.  
“Jean’s class was cancelled as well, take your girl to the movies too!” Connie shouted, words almost inaudible through his laughter.

There were so many words Marco could have responded with, but seeing as he was in public and in a crowded hallway he decided to keep them to himself. Marco slumped out of his small space in the hall and headed back to the dorms.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, whatever.”  
Marco watched Jean pace back and forth, talking into his cellphone while nursing a cigarette.  
“No, I’m not smoking,” Jean grumbled into the phone before taking a drag. Marco plucked it out of his hand and tossed it onto the ground, putting it out with his heel.

Jean shot him a look resembling a small puppy.

“Yeah, I’m sure Marco would love that.”  
Marco’s ears perked up at the sound of his name.  
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I gotta go. Love you too.”

Jean hung up his phone, groaning dramatically. Marco rolled his eyes and followed him into the building.  
“She knows I have class at this time but always loves to call me,” Jean grumbled, fiddling with his keys.  
“Atleast it was cancelled,” Marco squeaked, trying to add optimism to Jean’s mood.  
“True.”

Marco frowned at the flat response.

“What’s up?”  
Jean looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed.  
“What are you doing for winter break?”

* * *

 

“I dunno.”  
“C’mon Freckles,” Jean pleaded as he reached his door, trying to ease his key into the lock and doing so gracelessly.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
“While you’re thinking about it also think about where else we can go,” Jean said, quickly shutting the door as quickly as he had opened it. Marco raised his eyebrows.  
“Bert’s over.”  
“What’s wrong with Bertholdt?” Marco asked quizzically, staring at the shut door.  
“Nothing wrong with him, just the sounds out of his mouth when Reiner is on top of him and doing unspeakable things,” Jean said, face red.  
“Oh.”

Jean snorted at Marco’s realization.  
“Well Connie’s gone, he’s taking Sasha to the movies.”  
Jean turned, raising his eyes mischeviously. “Is he now?”  
Marco paled, “whatever you have planning I want no part in it.”

Jean grinned, moving closer to Marco, their chests touching.  
“We could go back to your room.” Jean hinted without subtlety, his eyes looking down the hall.  
Marco groaned as Jean pulled him by his shirt down the hall towards his room.  
Jean unlocked the door with one hand, the other moved to Marco’s head as he pushed him against the corner of Marco’s room.  
“Fuck Jean,”

Marco felt a smile stretch across Jean’s face as Jean pressed his lips against the length of his neck. Jean’s fingers found their way in Marco’s hair again and Marco found his breath come and go in stuttering gasps.  
Marco pulled away quickly, wrestling his fingertips at the edge of Jean’s shirt. Jean nearly stumbled backwards over Connie’s skateboard.  
“Let me help you with that,” Jean snorted, curling his hands over Marco’s and pulling his shirt above his head.  
Jean felt Marco’s eyes lingering on his body, feeling like an ant under a microscope.  
“Freckles?”

Marco laughed nervously and blushing fiercely, looking away.  
Jean pressed back against Marco, pressing his lips to Marco’s ear. “What’s bothering you?”  
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.” Marco said, meeting Jean’s eyes. Jean snorted again.  
“When have I ever done anything I didn’t want to do with you Marco,” Jean mumbled loud enough for him to hear, lightly kissing the side of Marco’s face.  
“So you have no objection if I do this?”

Jean pulled back.  
“Do what?”  
He felt Marco’s hand slid into his pants, his warm fingers closing around his crotch.  
“Jesus Marco!” Jean almost tripped back again, Marco reached out pulling him close again.  
A whimper slipped out of Jean’s mouth.  
Marco raised his eyebrows, grinning.

“Warn me next time Freckles,” Jean grumbled, face burning red as Marco’s had moments earlier.  
Marco opened his mouth to reply but a loud click grabbed his attention. The bolt slid out of the lock slowly.  
“Fuck,” Jean moved away from the door, pulling Marco, who’s hand was still shoved down the front of Jean’s pants.  
“Don’t move, wait-”  
Jean’s world flipped upside down as he found himself on the floor, crushed underneath Marco.  
The door swung open to reveal Connie and Sasha standing in the doorway.

“Uh, do I even wanna know?” Connie reached down and grabbed his skateboard.  
Jean felt Marco quickly rip his hand from Jean’s waistband.  
“We weren’t up to anything.” Jean grumbled unconvincingly.  
“Say that to Marco’s hand that was in your pants and your shirt on the floor.” Sasha giggled, peering from the hallway. Jean grunted in response, still wincing from the pain of falling.

* * *

 

“I don’t know, don’t ask me for advice.”  
“Well I think it’s a good idea,”  
“Thanks for the input Sasha.” Marco rolled his phone around in the palm of his hand.  
“Just do it. What other plans do you have?”  
“He has a point.”  
“Shut up Connie.”

Marco placed his phone down on the bed, looking over to Sasha and Connie. They both had invaded Marco’s space, sprawling out their papers and books across the floor and Marco’s bed.  
“If you hadn’t scared him off I would have had more time to think it over.”  
“The thought of Jean doing anything sexual in this room horrifies me to no end,” Connie said from behind his book. Marco shot a glare in his direction, trying not to think of the fact that Connie himself was sexually active in their shared bedroom.  
Marco rolled off his bed, grabbing his phone and made his way out the door, avoiding further conversation on the subject.

 

The phone rang three times before Jean answered it.  
Marco sat down in the hall, leaning against his door.  
“Hey Jean,”  
“H-Hey,” Jean said softly on the other side of the line.  
“I gave some thought into what you said earlier.”  
“I’m sorry about what happened back in your room, I shouldn’t have-”  
“Quiet, idiot,” Marco cut him off. Silence came from Jean’s end. “I’m kidding Jean.”  
Jean snorted into the phone.  
“So, what did you decide?”  
“I’ve decided to come along with you, back to your hometown, for holiday break.”  
Marco could almost see the grin in Jean’s voice, despite him being on the other side of the phone.  
“My folks will be excited to hear that,”  
“You seem excited to hear it as well,” Marco smiled into the phone.  
“I totally am- seriously Freckles.”  
“Wanna come over and help me pack?”


	2. Chapter Two: Ugly Sweaters

“Quit touching me with your feet, babe.”  
Marco snorted at the pet name; it sounded weird coming out of Jean’s mouth. Jean looked up, eyebrows arched, but said nothing. Marco scooted over in his bed, avoiding the piles of shirts they were both folding. He was secretly grateful Connie and Sasha left the room minutes earlier; he couldn’t bare the thought of Connie having more nickname ammo to shoot at him.

Marco folded, not saying much, lost in thought despite being beside Jean. His hands moved reflexively over and under, gently folding the shirt. He figured that folding had become second nature to him, not having a permanent home.  
Jeans eyes watched him as he did so, not speaking as well. Marco turned, feeling eyes on him. Jean’s glance was on his face, looking as if he were confused.  
“Uh, Jean?”

Jean flinched, “Uh, sorry.”  
“You’re so weird sometimes,” Marco said, smiling lightly.  
“You’re one to talk Freckles.” Jean grumbled, scooping up a few polos in his hand.  
Marco frowned, looking away.  
“Here,” Jean passed him the shirts. “What’s with that face?”  
Marco took them, his frown receding slightly.  
“I Just realized that I didn’t have a nickname for you.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “And you call me weird.”  
“How is that weird?!” Marco tucked the shirts into the luggage bag on his lap, staring back at Jean. Jean leaned back against the wall as he laughed at Marco’s reaction. He sat forward with a grin.  
“You act like some pet name is going to make our relationship official or something,” Jean grinned up at him, resting his hand on a pile of jeans. “You don’t need things like that to be a normal couple.”  
Marco sat forward.  
“I don’t care if we’re a normal couple, I mean; I just want us to be us. Whatever that is.” Marco stammered, still leaning forward.

Jean moved forward and took Marco’s hands into his, pressing them to his own face and smiled.  
“Jean?” Marco’s eyebrows moved slightly.  
“You’re just so cute sometimes,” He whispered, eyes closed.  
Marco leaned forward, kissing him. He felt Jean’s smile widen behind his lips.

* * *

After all the shirts were folded, and Marco’s stuff was packed away, Jean found himself sitting awkwardly at the edge of Marco’s bed as the boy moved around the room, moving and collecting various things.  
Jean tugged at the edge of his jacket, wondering if he should make the second request that was sitting in the back of his head. Atleast he got Marco to agree to Winter Break, a date shouldn’t be out of the question.  
Jean noticed a stillness in the air. He quickly realized it was silence and Marco had been humming the entire time up til now. Jean looked up at Marco.

Marco stared back at him, frowning.  
“What is it?” Jean asked, pushing his thoughts aside.  
“I hope you don’t think your family will have to get me a Christmas presents or anything of the sort,” Marco muttered, tucking his shoes into the small closet he and Connie shared and moving onto picking up a sock.  
“Shh,” Jean moved over to him and scooped him up.  
Marco flailed wildly, still gripping the dirty sock.  
“I’m getting you one because you’re my boyfriend.” Marco’s cheeks were red under his freckles. “And my family is a little…uhm…unconventional. Our Christmases aren’t like most families- you’ll see. Don’t worry about things like that, Freckles.”  
Marco rubbed his nose with his free hand.  
“Can you put me down, Jean?”

Jean grinned at the puppy dog expression filling Marco’s face. He lowered him, much to his relief.  
“I’m an adult Jeannnn. I’m taller than you. Why do you insist on picking me up all the time?” Marco wrinkled his nose, playfully to show Jean he wasn’t serious. Jean sat back down on the bed, playing with one of Marco’s pillows.  
“Uhm, how would you feel about going on a date?”  
Marco stopped moving about in the background and turned to Jean.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’s just going to say no.

“S-sure! Tonight?”  
“Wait- really?”  
“Yeah, really.” Marco said, beaming from behind the stack of books he was carrying.  
“How about we go see a movie and dinner after this?” Jean cautiously suggested, surprised at Marco’s eager response. Marco nodded as he slid the books onto his desk.  
“Alright!” Jean sat up quickly. “Uh, I’m gonna go get ready and stuff.” He pointed at the door with his thumb.  
Marco raised his eyebrows, amused. “Make sure you have some condoms.”

Jean’s face turned scarlet, redder than Marco’s had earlier.  
“Uh, are you serious?” Jean stammered, not meeting Marco’s eyes.  
“I’m kidding Jean,” Marco snorted. He paused, straightening up. “Unless you wanted to or something-“  
“Y-yeah, uh, alright. Later Marco.” Jean opened up the door and slipped out before the two could exchange another word. He leaned against the wall across from the door, inhaling slowly.

Nobody in the world but Marco could turn him into a giant idiot whenever they talked.

The door opened and Marco stuck his head out it.  
“So was that a yes?”

Jean stared back at Marco, eyes wide at his sudden appearance. Marco laughed to himself, taking pleasure in how nervous Jean was getting.  
“Goddammit Marco, what do you want me to say?” Jean grumbled.  
“Whatever you want, it’s just cute seeing you this riled up.”  
Jean’s cheeks turned red and he turned, stomping down the hall to his room.  
“You never answered my question!” Marco shouted down the hall.  
“Fuck off Marco!” Jean groaned before entering his room. Marco giggled, slipping back inside his room. 

* * *

 

Excited for the date Marco moved over to his drawer to pick out an outfit. After pulling open the empty drawer he turned to look at the luggage by his bed and came to the realization that he had packed everything away.  
“Ugh,” Marco grunted and flopped onto his bed facedown.  
The door clicked open and he hear Connie trod in.  
“You alright there Marco?” Connie asked, peering down at him.  
“Ugh.” Marco grunted again, not moving from his position.  
He heard Connie backpedal out of the room without another word. Marco sat up and pulled one of his bags over to him and began the painstaking process of navigating through his bags.

Connie made his way back into the room, his gait wavering under the weight of several grocery bags. Marco peered over his shoulder, eyeing the bags suspiciously.  
“Is that…?”  
Connie grinned mischievously and nodded, raising one bag into the air with a triumphant pump of his fist. Marco stretched out his arms excitedly.  
Connie threw the heavy bundle to his arms.  
“You’re welcome.” Connie said pointedly, whipping out the contents of the other bags: stockings, various Christmas wall décor, table-top trees, etc. Marco grinned as he pulled on the sweater.  
Connie took this time to look up.

“That’s probably the ugliest thing I have ever seen.  
Marco glanced down at the burgundy colored sweater, smiling at the 8-bit snowmen.  
“I think I’m going to wear this tonight.” Marco mumbled definitively, pushing his suitcase back to the corner.  
“Ymir told you guys about the party?” Connie asked, looking up from his pile of candy canes.  
“No?” Marco looked up from his sweater. “I’m going on a date with Jean.”  
“Cancel it! Everyone will be there!” Connie threw a handful of candy canes in Marco’s general direction. They fell short and landed at his feet. Marco scowled.  
“It’s our first date.”  
Connie’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He raised a thin eyebrow in contemplation. “Why don’t you guys come by after?”  
Marco shrugged, unsure.  
He leaned down and picked up the candy canes.  
“I’ll bring it up with Jean,” He replied thoughtfully. “No promises Baldie.”

Another candy cane flew in Marco’s direction.

“I’m gonna head out now,“ Marco said laughingly as he moved across the room, arms up to shield from potential projectiles. Connie shook his fist menacingly.  
“Are you seriously going on a date in that?”  
“It’s Jean. This would be overdressing compared to him,” Marco snorted. He grabbed his phone and ducked out the door before Connie could throw more things at him.

* * *

“You…uhm…look nice.”  
“Marco what the fuck.”  
Jean stood by his car, face burning. He was suddenly very self-aware of himself (Not that he already wasn’t around Marco). Marco tugged at the edge of his sweater, face also bright red.  
“I’ll change-“  
“No, don’t.” Jean said laughingly lightly.  
“You sure?” Marco mumbled, looking Jean up and down. Jean grinned. Maybe a casual blazer was a bit much for movies and dinner. He nodded, trying not to laugh.  
Marco leaned against the car.  
“I feel really self-conscious right now.”  
Jean blinked, once again surprised at how forward Marco had been with his feelings lately.  
“Uhm, don’t worry about it, me too.” Jean mumbled, looking away.  
“Really?”  
“Sure, let’s get going.” Jean grumbled, not meeting Marco’s eyes. He turned toward the driver’s seat. Marco pulled on his arm.

“You’re such a dork,” Marco mumbled back and leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek.  
“You’re one to talk.” Jean replied through his smile. Marco let go of his arm and stepped back, smiling as well.  
“I was talking to Connie earlier and I thought you might be interested in something he mentioned.”

 

“I’m not wearing that.”  
“Don’t argue.” Eren growled, pulling the sweater over Jean’s head.  
“I CAN’T FUCKING MOVE MY ARMS JEAGER!”  
“STOP YELLING AT ME!”  
Mikasa stomped into the room and pulled them both by the ear.  
“Where is Marco?” She asked, eyeing them angrily.  
“You’re not my supervisor!” Eren shouted and pulled from her grip, fleeing across the house.  
Mikasa glared after him before turning to Jean.  
“This is your fault.” She said coldly into his ear, before letting him go before she went after Eren. Armin stared as he passed her in the hall, walking toward the couch. He looked to Jean, confused, who returned with a passive shrug.

“I have a feeling this night is going to be interesting,” Armin noted, playing with the fake reindeer antlers on his head. Jean crinkled his nose at them.  
“I don’t know how Marco talked me into this,” Jean grumbled, observing the tacky sweater that enveloped his body. Armin snickered, plopping down on the couch.  
“Oh well, I’m sure you guys will get another date night soon.” Armin smiled brightly up at Jean before distracting himself in his phone, most likely reading texts detailing the current of Eren’s hijinks.

There was a knock at the door. Armin and Jean spun their heads around.  
Reiner, Bertholdt and Marco burst through the door, each hefting large boxes.  
Jean met Marco’s eyes as Marco lifted back his hood, shaking light tufts of snow onto his shoulders and into his hair. Marco smiled softly, eyes glowing, before turning to help the others unload the beer. Jean leapt up to help, following Marco into the kitchen.  
Jean helped slide the empty boxes into Ymir’s recycling bin, surprised she had one at all.

“Hey, thanks for this,” Marco straightened up.  
“Hmm?” Jean closed the door to the laundry room, rotating to meet Marco.  
Marco’s face was red from the cold, his freckles barely visible and his dark hair was darker from the moisture. The hair stuck to his head as he leaned forward, brushing his lips on Jean’s cheek.  
“I know you really wanted to go out somewhere. Partying with friends is probably not what you had in mind.” Marco pulled at his sleeve, distractedly as he said this.

“Honestly I’m surprised you wanted to do this but I’m all about whatever you want to do.”  
Jean inwardly winced at the jumbled mess that left his mouth. Marco seemed to take no notice of the awkward phrasing, as Jean watched the edges of his mouth pull up. Marco wrapped his arms around Jean.

Marco’s embrace was warm, comforting, and Jean felt he could stand in the kitchen for the rest of the night. He lifted his own arms and brought them around Marco. Jean pressed his face to the crook of Marco’s neck.  
“Hugging like this…being together like this… It feels almost- natural,” Jean murmured against Marco. Marco didn’t respond, his grip only tightened.  
“Just think, in a few days’ time you’ll be meeting my parents, we’ll be spending our first real holiday together…”  
Marco snorted.  
“What about Thanksgiving and Halloween?”  
Jean rolled his eyes.  
“We both ended up studying that entire time. I don’t think eating Connie’s leftover candy and treats count.” Jean pointed out.  
Marco pulled back, scowling.  
“I didn’t even have to see your face to know you rolled your eyes.”

“Shh,” Jean hushed him, kissing his forehead.  
Marco rolled his eyes this time.  
“You ready to go socialize?” He muttered, taking Jean’s hand into his own.  
Jean groaned dramatically. Marco scowled deeper.  
“Don’t make me pinch you Jean…”  
“I swear I will drive home the moment your fingers touch my skin.” Jean threatened, leaning back from Marco. Marco raised his eyebrows suggestively. Jean squinted, “I didn’t mean it like that you dork.”  
“Good, I don’t think you could go the whole night without my ‘fingers’ touching your skin,” Marco said, laughing lightly.  
“Oy gross, get a room.”  
Connie stood at the door holding a beer faking a look of disgust. Marco and Jean both rolled their eyes simultaneously and made their way into the living room to join the party.


	3. Chapter Three: You're My Giant Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco get some alone time during the party, could this result in new experiences for Marco?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this chapter is where I'm introducing some smut, so be warned!

“I’m done drinking beer,” Marco grumbled, pushing the half empty can across the table.  
“Don’t you dare waste alcohol in my house.” 

Marco turned his head to catch a glimpse of Ymir crossing between rooms, dragging various Christmas decorations behind her. Christa was following the parade of light, a small ball of blond energy herself.

Eren leaned down the table, knocking over Armin’s deck of cards.  
“Don’t mind if I do.”   
Mikasa rolled her eyes and helped Armin adjust the pile.

“Liquor’s either above the fridge or in Jean’s grubby paws.” Ymir said briefly, making another short appearance in the hallway.  
Marco smiled in gratitude and made his way to the kitchen. 

“Don’t you fuck this up, he’s too good for you.”  
“I know that, sheesh, pass me the shotglass will you?”  
Marco froze outside the kitchen, face already burning. It was strange to think that Jean obviously talked and thought about him even when he wasn’t in the room.

“He’s a little shit.” Connie’s voice made an appearance.  
“He’s my little shit.” Jean grumbled back.  
Soft clinking of glass resonated through the door.  
“He’s too good for the both of you.” Sasha repeated, putting emphasis that Connie was now included in the equation.

Marco chose this time to walk through the door, hoping they wouldn’t think he was eavesdropping.  
Jean glanced up from behind the shots he was pouring.  
Marco’s heart leapt at how brightly Jean’s eyes lit up when seeing him.  
“Couldn’t stay separated for too long, could ya?” Connie teased.  
Sasha rolled her eyes but giggled at the joke.  
“I’m just here for the alcohol.” Marco said innocently, raising his palms.  
Jean scowled but made his way over to Marco, his shot immediately out of his mind.

“I’ve missed you Freckles,” He said, low enough so Connie couldn’t hear and begin to generate jokes.  
“And I you,” Marco responded.  
“Guys, it’s been ten minutes at most, calm down.”  
Marco winced at Sasha’s sass. Leave it to her or Connie to kill a happy moment.  
“I think you guys forget that I have feelings.” Jean said, fake-pouting.  
A grin stretched across Marco’s lips as he wrapped his arms around Jean, ignoring Connie’s giggling.  
Mikasa walked into the room, picking up the bottle of vodka.  
“Shut it Connie, you and Sasha were at least fifty times worse when you started dating.”

Jean snorted and Marco’s grin widened at Mikasa coming to their defense.  
“You’re drinking tonight?” Connie asked, eyeing the bottle (and obviously changing the subject).  
“Eren’s already finished the remainder of Marco’s beer and he’s on the hunt for more to drink.”  
The room simultaneously groaned.  
“If you start a fight with him tonight, I don’t know if you’ll survive.” Mikasa said pointedly to Jean, before disappearing with the bottle.  
“Don’t worry, we’ve got Reiner to protect you.” Marco said, laughing lightly.  
“Where is that big gay anyway?” Jean mumbled, attempted peering out the kitchen door while still positioned in Marco’s arms.  
“Marco’s holding him.” Connie slipped out of the room before Jean could register the joke.

 

“I have a feeling you won’t be driving us home tomorrow,” Marco said, a drunken grin permanently plastered to his face for the night.  
They were sitting on the edge of the porch, leaning against each other, immune to the chilly winds and taking brief refuge from the excitement of the party.  
“I hade driving hungover.” Jean slurred, yet still downing his drink.  
“I know, I know.” Marco said, nuzzling against the crook of Jean’s neck. Jean’s arm tightened around his side slightly.  
“Freckles?”

Marco lifted his head.  
“Yeah, Jean?”  
Jean sipped his drink, seeming to think for a moment.  
“Nothing.”  
“Nothing?”  
“Nothing ad all.”  
Marco reached over and plucked the cup from Jean’s hand and placed it on his other side.  
“You need to stop drinking.”

Jean reached over pathetically, making a half-hearted attempt to grab it.  
“It helps.” He mumbled, eyes fixated on the cup.  
“Helps what?” Marco asked, watching Jean’s eyes.  
Jean mumbled incoherently.  
“I’ll let you get one more sip if you could actually enunciate your words for once.”   
“It helps me not be a giant mess around you.” Jean said slowly, not making eye contact.  
The cold stung Marco’s cheeks for the first time that night.  
“You’re always a giant mess. You’re my giant mess.”  
Jean looked up, face red.   
“Oh god, you heard that?”

Marco giggled drunkenly, nodding. Jean moved forward, leaning into him. Marco turned in response.  
However Jean’s goal was different: He leaned past Marco and grabbed his drink, pulling it close.  
“I thought you were going to kiss me.”   
“You said I could have my drink back.” Jean grumbled childishly, following the statement with a triumphant gulp of his cup.  
“I said a sip.” Marco said, feigning a dejected look. He took the cup back again.  
“You’re a bully.” Jean growled, reaching past him.  
“You’re drunk.” Marco responded, trying not to laugh as he pushed the cup a few inches further away.

Jean leaned over completely, pushing Marco onto his back. He used his knees to pin Marco’s arms down and he picked up the cup victoriously.  
“No fair,” Marco hissed, starting to feel the cold and struggling to move his arms.  
“Sorry babe,” Jean said between sips, his tone clearly indicating he wasn’t sorry.  
“I’m colddddd,” Marco whined, still pinned down.  
“We can go inside when I finish this,” Jean laughed, lifting himself off Marco.  
“I don’t want to drink anymore, and everyone is so loudddd,”  
“And you called me drunk,” Jean said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“10/10, best idea yet.”  
Jean curled up to Marco, the warm A/c removing the chill from his skin. Marco adjusted his arm, trying to get comfortable in the backseat, and wrapped it around Jean.  
“Everyone is probably wondering where we went.” Jean mumbled though his tone showed no concern at the statement.  
Marco pressed his head into the crook of Jeans neck, and grunted lightly in response.

“Who would have thought in such a short time we would get this close?” Marco whispered.  
“I did.” Jean whispered back, almost too soft for Marco to hear. “From the moment we met.”  
Marco craned his neck, looking at Jean, whose eyes were closed.  
“Do you believe in destiny?”  
Jean did a small shrug. “I don’t know. There could be other worlds where we’re together, other world’s where we’re not. Maybe this was meant to be. I don’t know and I don’t really care, I just know that I’m here with you now and I want it to stay that way.”  
Marco sat up, leaning over Jean.  
“I want you and I want to be with you and I don’t care what obstacles we face. I don’t know what I would have-“

Jean moved forward and pressed his lips to Marco’s.  
“Stop all this talk about destiny and pasts and futures,” he grumbled, a slight slur still moving in his voice. “You have me, here and now. And I have you, you drunk idiot.”  
Marco stared back at Jean. No words could come to his mouth or mind. A single bead of sweat dripped off his forehead and onto Jean’s nose.  
“Ugh, gross, way to ruin a moment.”  
“I think you turned the A/c up too high,” Marco said, too drunk to be embarrassed.   
“Or the right temperature.” Jean wiggled under Marco and slipped off his shirt.  
“This was all a scheme,” Marco giggled accusingly. Jean tugged wordlessly on Marco’s sweater.  
“Please take off this god awful sweater before I take it off you.”  
“I like it too much.”  
“More than me?”  
“Maybe,” Marco teased.

Jean’s arm’s turned in a flurry of moment as he flipped Marco onto his back and tugged the sweater halfway up his body. He began placing kisses up Marco’s navel, cool against his warm skin.  
“How about now?”  
“I can be swayed to part with it,” Marco said his breaths getting heavier, helping Jean slide it off. “Come here.”  
Jean leaned into Marco as Marco’s lips made their way across his neck, sucking lightly at the soft skin there. Jean found his hands in Marco’s hair.  
“Is that your boner or are you just happy to see me? Wait-“  
“You fucked up the joke,” Jean said, his laughter ragged between his breaths.  
“I’ll fuck you up.”  
Both of them paused.  
“I can’t believe I just said that,” Marco said, his face burning in the dimly lit car.  
“I can’t believe you’re not doing it right now.” Jean responded, not breaking eye contact.  
It was Marco’s turn to flip Jean over, gripping his wrists and pinning him down in the front seat.  
“That was for earlier.” He said, brushing his lips across Jean’s chest.  
Jean whimpered lightly, not responding.

“Are you alright with this?” Marco whispered, pulling away for a moment.  
“Don’t stop idiot,” Jean hissed, eyes closed.  
Marco brought his hand down onto the crotch of Jean’s pants.  
“I’m taking that as a yes.” He said, responding to the bulge that had formed.  
Jean pulled away, flipping Marco this time.  
“Stop talking,” He said, pressing his lips into Marco’s collarbone.  
“Make me.”

Jean made his way down Marco’s smooth chest, warmth radiating off of it in waves. He stopped just before the waistline.  
“Have you ever?”  
Marco shook his head.  
“We don’t have to-“  
Marco unzipped his pants.  
“Being forward are we?  
“I thought we were past that point,” Marco said, almost breathlessly.  
Jean raised his eyebrows and pulled Marco’s pants and underwear down in one action.  
Marco’s cock slapped against his stomach, free from his waistband. Even in the dark Jean could see that the tip was wet with precome.  
“How many times have you done this?” Marco asked, eyeing him suspiciously.  
“Not a lot, just enough to know how to do this,”

Jean brought his wet mouth down on Marco’s member. Marco instantly squirmed, grunting in response. Jean pulled up quickly, gagging slightly.  
“That was a lot bigger than I thought it was.”  
“I don’t know whether to be honored or embarrassed but I do know that you can’t stop.” Marco’s hands slipped into Jean’s hair. Jean obliged, going down and bringing Marco into his mouth again.   
Jean bobbed up and down, alternating the pace, feeling Marco grind against the seat beneath him. He pulled up, rolling his tongue around the tip. A whimper escape Marco’s mouth.  
“You like that?” Marco’s finger’s tightened in Jean’s short hair.  
Jean began stroking him slowly, watching the expressions of pleasure dance across Marco’s face. He ducked back down and took Marco’s balls into his mouth and began to suck.

Marco’s eyes flew open. “Jean!”  
Jean ignored this, loosening his hold of Marco’s parts and bringing his tongue up and down his shaft. Marco moaned, his hands falling away from Jean’s head and clutching his back.  
Jean rubbed the head of Marco’s cock, moistening it with the heavy drips of precome spilling out. Marco’s hands roamed Jean’s back and he panted breathlessly.  
“I’m getting close.”  
Jean dove back down on Marco, taking all of him in with a grunt.  
“J-j-jean,”  
Jean went up and down, twisting his neck and sucking harder.  
“Jeannnnn!” Marco hissed, his back arching but Jean did not slow down.  
Warmth filled Jean’s mouth as Marco emptied himself into him, his cock pulsating between his lips. Jean grunted, attempting to swallow it all without spilling it. Marco released a deep moan and fell back onto the seat.

“Holy fuck.”  
Jean wiped at his mouth, staring down at Marco.  
“Jean- that was, holy fuck.”  
Jean grinned at the curses coming out of Marco’s mouth. Marco sat up, seemingly very self-aware.   
Marco moved forward, kissing Jean on the lips and brought his hand down to Jean’s crotch.  
“Not now,” Jean murmured, returning the kiss. “Let’s save it for our first date.”  
Marco nodded silently, a frown appearing on his face.  
“You got some on your seat.”

Jean looked down at the splotches of cum starting to stain his seat.  
“In no way whatsoever could that be my fault.” Jean grumbled, rubbing at it with his hand.  
Marco snorted, pulling on his clothes.  
“We’re not sleeping in the car again, let’s head inside before they come looking for us.”  
Jean grinned and pulled his clothes on without another word.


	4. Chapter Four: Plays Well With Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean watched Marco’s back rose and fell steadily, moving with the current of his sleeping breaths. There was a lot he never told him.  
> “There’s so much I want to tell you,” He half whispered, tracing the freckled constellation of his boyfriend’s skin. “So much I want to show you, to share with you…”  
> “… I don’t think I ever told you that I love you- I do, I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty slow chapter before their Winter Break adventures. In the meantime, enjoy a bit of fluff!

“Where the fuck have y’all been?”  
Eren stumbled into Marco, sloshing a bit of his drink down his front. Jean snorted as Marco moved back, trying to avoid the potential stain of beer.  
“Just went on a walk and talked and stuff.” Jean said, not bothering to tease Eren for saying “y’all”.

“Whatever,” Eren said, his attention already redirected to the other side of the room. Mikasa rolled her eyes, standing up and grabbing his drink. She cast a raised eyebrow at Marco (which Jean didn’t fail to notice). Marco instantly averted his eyes, suddenly interested in the bottles of liquor lining the kitchen counter.

“Hey Kiddos,”  
Ymir strolled into the kitchen brandishing her own bottle. Eren frowned at her and ducked out, clutching his own bottle in his hand. Ymir turned to Mikasa, raising her eyebrow as Mikasa had done moment earlier.  
“I’m on it,” Mikasa mumbled, plucking the bottle out of Eren’s hand and placing it on the counter. Luckily due to his inebriation he did not notice or make comment on the action.

“Jean, I’m drunk.”  
Jean turned to see Marco lean on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded, looking back at him. Jean ran a hand through Marco’s hair, sighing.  
“I’m not driving home tomorrow.”  
“Told you so,” Marco mumbled into his shoulder. Jean grinned, despite Marco not being able to see him.  
“Do you want to go on our date tomorrow?”  
Marco groaned, not looking up.  
“You’re not gonna be hungover by nighttime, Freckles.”  
Another groan followed.  
“Marco.” Jean said.  
“I’m so tired. Can we stay in bed all day tomorrow?”  
“Gross, keep that to yourselves,”

Jean felt Marco lift his head. Connie strutted into the room with Sasha following him like a wide-eyed puppy. Jean took this opportunity to groan, which he following with a swig from Eren’s unattended bottle.  
Mikasa pulled the bottle from Jean’s hand, sliding it down the table.  
“I’ll drive you back Marco,” she said, a rare smiling lighting her face. “And anyone else who needs to go back.” She shot a glance at Jean.  
“I’m not that drunk,” He said, feeling his face glowing red (more from the alcohol than embarrassment).  
The room broke in an out roar of laughter.  
“Fuck you guys.” Jean mumbled, pressing his head against the table. He felt Marco’s fingers slip into his own.

“Let’s go home,”  
Jean looked up to see Marco smiling back at him.  
Jean sighed.  
“Alright,” He sat up in the chair nodding to Mikasa. “I’m bringing a drink for the road though.”  
“Can you bring my bag back?” Connie asked, looking back to Jean. Mikasa sighed, a soft smile on her lips before picking up her keys and heading outside to the car.  
“Do you remember what happened last time?” Marco mumbled

 

“There better not be any funny business going on back there.”  
Marco flinched at Mikasa’s stern voice. He felt Jean’s arms tighten, pulling him closer in the backseat.  
“Just two dudes being dudes ‘Kasa, nothing to worry about.”  
Marco grinned at Jean’s drunken words.  
Whether Mikasa heard his words or not was not revealed to them; she kept her eyes on the road and didn’t respond, although, in the dim glow of the passing streetlights, Marco could have sworn he saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

“Freckles…”  
Marco leaned back into Jean, responding to the murmur. The chill of the night slipped through the open passenger window, chilling Marco to his bones. Oddly enough, Mikasa seemed unaffected despite sitting in the front.  
“So what are you guys going to do for the rest of the night?” Jean’s voice reverberated through his body and against Marco’s as he made conversation with Mikasa.  
Mikasa shrugged.  
“Dragging Eren home, probably going to make him pack before going over to Armin’s place. Not sure the timeline for all of that though. You two?”  
Marco felt his eyes getting heavier as he tried to follow the conversation. Despite Jean speaking inches away from his ear the lull of his voice and warmth of his body disarmed his body in his fight against sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet,” Jean’s soft words broke through his sleep haze. Marco felt Jean’s warm lips press against the side of his forehead.  
Marco tried to formulate words but the tug of sleep and the weight of his intoxication made it nearly impossible. He breathed lightly, pressing back into Jean once more.  
“He’s asleep isn’t he?” He heard, muffled from the front.  
Jean’s gentle, golden-belled laughter was the last thing to reach his ears before the night enveloped him.

_

“You can’t be serious,”  
Jean frowned, trying to force his eyes open.  
“Where is all this energy from, I’m exhausted Marco.” He groaned, his body splayed out eagle-spread on Marco’s bed. Marco plopped down, taking up the little room remaining beside him.  
“Short burst naps are my specialty,” Jean heard Marco proclaimed cheerily.

An odd swishing sound filled the air.  
“What the fuck is that sound?” Jean mumbled, trying to locate it. He sat up, looking up at Marco.  
Marco sat guiltily, a pint-size bottle of liquor in his hands.  
“Jesus Christ Freckles, are you still drinking?”  
“…Maybe?”

Jean grinned sleepily up at him.  
“I can’t make any promises I can stay up to entertain you,” Jean laughed lightly, amazing at Marco’s ability to out-drink him and his unending energy. Marco sat up and pulled off his layers of shirts, droplets of melted flakes dripping onto his exposed back. In one motion he rolled the bottle away from him and rolled over, curling up into Jean.  
“Connie won’t be back for a while,” Marco mumbled into his shoulder.  
“Hmm?” Jean grunted sleepily, replying from behind closed eyes. “What are you getting at Freckles?”  
“Oh nothing…”  
Jean felt Marco shift in the bed slightly.  
This was followed by a sharp pain in his lip.

Jean’s eyes quickly flew open, he didn’t have to search far for the source. Marco pressed his lips to Jean’s jaw, nibbling lightly on the smooth skin.  
“M-Marco, how on earth do you have so much energy?” Jean grinned, weakly lifting a tired hand to Marco’s face. Marco shrugged, his lips still probing Jean’s neck. Warmth flooded Jean’s body, like warm waves passing over a shore.  
Jean attempted to stifle a moan.  
“Marco, I’m honestly too tired.”  
Marco lifted his head, his light brown eyes meeting Jean’s own. A rosy glow peeked from behind the sea of freckles on his face. He scratched his nose, something Jean noticed he did when nervous.  
“You don’t have to do anything, just lay back.”  
Jean watched as Marco dipped his head down again, lips tracing just above his collarbones.

Jean moved his hand to stop him.  
The light brown eyes met his own again.  
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Jean mumbled. “You don’t owe me for earlier or anything like that.” Marco blinked wordlessly.  
“I wasn’t trying to do-“Marco paused, frowning. “Nevermind.” He fell back into place besides Jean, face pressed into his shoulder.

“Marco?”  
Jean bit his lip, maybe he had offended him somehow?  
“Hmm?” Marco turned his head. His brow was furrowed lightly, those golden brown eyes out of focus, seemingly concentrating on other things.  
“Uh,” Jean tried to come up with how to word what he wanted to ask, Marco’s eyes watching him patiently. Jean stared back into them, at a loss for words. “I forget but have I ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”  
Marco blinked again, eyes wide and confused.  
“Sorry, that was random.”  
“Don’t apologize, it was sweet- albeit unexpected,” Marco kissed the tip of Jean’s nose.  
“You’re such a dork.”  
“I’m your dork,” Marco grumbled, curling up against Jean, eyes half-lidded.  
“Getting sleepy?”  
“Yeah, surprisingly.” Jean felt Marco’s face shift into a small frown against his arm. Jean shifted over, making more room. Lying beside someone had always made him feel uncomfortable but with Marco it felt normal, natural.

It felt like it was meant to be.

Jean stretched his arm out, pressing up against Marco even closer. In the dim light of the room he could see that Marco’s back was heavily freckled, something he noted but never put full attention to.  
Marco’s freckles were the first thing he noticed about him.  
And his favorite thing about him.

But he had never told him that.

Jean watched Marco’s back rose and fell steadily, moving with the current of his sleeping breaths. There was a lot he never told him.  
“There’s so much I want to tell you,” He half whispered, tracing the freckled constellation of his boyfriend’s skin. “So much I want to show you, to share with you…”

“… I don’t think I ever told you that I love you- I do, I really do.”

-

“Jean, you’re crushing my arm.”  
Marco tugged at his arm lightly, testing out his ability to wiggle from underneath the unconscious boy curled up against him (and on top of his arm). Jean sniffled in his sleep, adjusting enough for Marco to free his arm.  
The sun was barely breaking through the blinds, the room still cast in darkness. The sounds of Jean’s light breathing was the only sound filling the air; Connie’s iconic snorts were glaringly not present. 

Marco waved his arm awake, looking for his phone (and realizing he went to bed without changing into sleepwear). He found his phone in his pocket, uncharged and probably full of various texts and notifications. He slid out of the bed, careful not to wake Jean, and made his way to his desk to plug it in.

He yawned sleepily, grateful that he wasn’t hungover despite how much he had drank. His phone flashed to life, vibrating awake in his hand. He scrolled through winter-break goodbyes from friends, ranging from mopey hung-over farewells from Connie and Sasha to an oddly heartfelt message from Mikasa.  
The messages just served as a reminder of his winter break plans with Jean. Though he wouldn’t admit it to Jean, he was a bit nervous at the prospect. He knew Jean told his parents that they were dating but for some reason that made the thought of meeting them more intimidating.

He unplugged his charger and various electronics, stacking them in a haphazard pile beside his suitcase. Moving across the room he noticed the numerous textbooks he had yet to return and school supplies strewn across the room.

It took everything in him to stifle a groan.  
He scrawled out a hasty note to Jean, grabbed the book and made his way out of the room.

-

“Marco?”  
Jean lifted his head, squinting around the room through sleep-filled eyes.  
Goddammit.  
“Why would he leave me alone in his room?” Jean wondered, looking around for his phone.  
With his phone nowhere to be seen he soon gave up. Jean sat up sleepily, trying to get his thoughts together.  
A hollow click filled the air and the door swung open.  
Marco walked in cradling a box of donuts and two Styrofoam coffee cups. Jean repressed a squeal of happiness.

“Hey sleepyhead,”  
Jean smiled sheepishly back up at him.  
“I see you had an early morning.”  
“It’s actually not all that late,” Marco said, passing him a cup of coffee. Jean raised his eyebrows before accepting the cup. “It’s only ten.”  
“Which means…”  
“…That it’s not too late to head out.” Marco finished, busying himself with the donuts. Jean nodded to himself.

He took a moment of self-assessing, mentally observing himself. He wasn’t particularly tired, despite drinking last night. Content that he could go about his day as a functioning human being he took a sip of coffee, now cooled, and scooted over, making room for Marco.  
Marco moved like clockwork, immediately taking the vacant opening and passing Jean a glazed donut.

“Thanks Freckles.” He leaned forward and kissed Marco on his freckled nose.  
“Don’t mention it,” Marco said bashfully. Jean grinned at the blush spreading across his face. Even though they had been together for some time now Marco still had his incredibly shy moments.  
“Are you up for going today?”  
“Why wouldn't I be?”  
Jean raised his eyebrows again.  
“If I were to write you a report card I honestly couldn’t mark you down as ‘plays well with others.’”  
“Speak for yourself.” Marco said, attempting to sound offended from behind a bite of donut. Marco seemed too distracted by the donut to notice Jean rolling his eyes. “But honestly, you know how I am, I’ll be ready for it when it happens-  
Jean if you raise your eyebrows at me again they’re going to fly off your face.”  
“Are you saying you’re not ready for it now?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
“I don’t, that’s why I’m asking you.”  
“Asking me what?”  
“About winter break.”  
“What about it?” Marco asked, deliberately clueless.  
“GOD MARCO YOU’RE SO INFURIATING!” Jean rolled away, pulling the pillow up to his face.

Marco giggled, turning his attention back to his donut.  
“I’m ready to go though, just let me grab my things; also you should probably let your mom know you’re on the way. You can have some donuts if you use a napkin and don’t get crumbs everywhere.”  
Jean released a sigh into the pillow.  
“Why is it that I feel like I’m babysitting you one second and then I’m the one being babysat the next?”  
“Jean, what on earth are you talking about?”

Jean pulled the pillow away from his face.  
“Nothing. I’m going to shower you dork.”  
“But you’re my dork.” Marco said, through a mouthful of donut.  
“Gross.”


	5. Chapter Five: Make Yourself At Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco has no expectations heading to Jean's for Winter Break but braces himself for his for introduction as Jean's boyfriend.

The hills past by in a rolling green blur outside the window of Jean’s car. Music inched its way from the speakers to their ears, though most of the drive it went unnoticed. Jokes and hometown stories were exchanged, bouncing back and forth as the miles and minutes ticked by.  
“We’re almost there,” Jean mumbled seemingly to more himself than Marco. Marco watched as Jean’s hands moved automatically, flicking the turn signal, smoothly rotating the wheel. Marco stretched his hand out, curling his pinky finger in Jean’s.  
Jean’s eyes flicked over to him momentarily before falling back onto the road.

“It’s going to be fine Marco, no need to get nervous.”  
Marco paled.  
“I’m not nervous.”  
“You’re shaking your leg and scratching your nose, if you’re not nervous something is at least on your mind.” Jean replied, frowning slightly, attention bouncing from Marco and the road.

Marco looked out the window, not replying. He felt Jean’s pinky slip from his own and replace itself with his whole hand. Marco took a deep breath, staring at the dimming landscape. Although Jean had did little, he was already feeling loads better.  
Why was he so nervous?  
It was just meeting Jean’s parents. They can’t be awful, obviously Jean was a result of their parenting. Marco let out a sigh (which he hoped went unnoticed by Jean). He could handle this, they’ve been through much worse, right?

 

“You must be Marco, I’ve heard so much about you, come in dear, I’m just starting dinner!”  
Marco flashed her his brightest smile. He was surprised, Jean’s mother looked little like him, her features softer, rounder. Her hair was much darker, which swung from her head in a long ponytail. If there was any details about them similar was their voices (and very large ears); while Jean’s was obviously more masculine, their tone and inflection was identical.

Marco followed her into the house, leaving his footwear at the entrance alongside the neat line of shoes and boots. The entire house followed a similar pattern, straight lines of organization and tidiness. Funnily enough, upon Marco’s first glance he would have guessed that nobody lived there.  
“You have a lovely home,” Marco said cheerily, looking at all the spotless furniture.  
“Why thank you dear,” She turned her head smiling. “We don’t have much guests here lately. The boys are always out and about. Even so, make yourself at home.”  
She turned to Jean, who had yet to say anything.  
“Jeanbo, show him around, stop standing in the doorway.”  
Jean nodded, kicking off his shoes. His mother smiled again and disappeared to what Marco imagined was the kitchen.  
“See, that was easy, wasn’t it?” Jean mumbled, brushing his hand against the back of Marco’s arm. Marco nodded, wordlessly and followed him down the hallway.

They reached the far end of the house where Jean led Marco up a staircase. Marco followed obediently, taking in all of the portraits on the walls, super coordinated color schemes and details. He followed Jean into one of the two upstairs.  
“This is where the magic happens,” Jean let out a forced laugh, flicking the light switch beside the door. To Marco’s surprise it was very plain and simple, very little indication showed that the room has been occupied during Jean’s youth.  
“I wasn’t home often,” Jean answered, seeing the expression on Marco’s face. Marco shrugged, sitting down on the large, blanketed bed. Jean gazed around the room thoughtfully before turning back around.  
“We have a guest room where you can keep your things. I doubt my parents would be weird about us sharing a bed or PDA in general, though I don’t really-“  
The sound of chimes filled the air, resonating within the walls.  
“Jean, be a dear and grab the door!”  
Jean groaned, shrugging apologetically at Marco before his mother shouted up the steps again  
“If I leave this food unattended for more than a second you’ll be without dinner!” Jean turned to Marco, rolling his eyes.  
“C’mon, I’ll give you a tour in a bit.” Marco took Jean’s outstretched hand.

It all felt normal; perfectly natural.

“We can set up the tree later too, my parents hate doing that anyways,” Jean said grinning, pushing back his hair with his free hand.  
“Maybe we can get you a haircut too,” Marco teased, running his own hand through Jean’s hair. Jean snorted, pulling him down the steps.  
“Who’s at the door dear?!”  
“I’m literally two feet away from it!” Jean yelled down the hall. Marco smiled, despite Jean’s hollering it was nice seeing Jean act uninhibited and natural. Jean minus stress was always a welcomed experience. Jean’s eyes flickered on him for a moment, as if acknowledging that he was staring.  
Jean smiled lightly before reaching out and opening the door.  
“Jean? I’m surprised you’re home.”  
Jean’s smile dropped. “Oh.”  
“That’s no way to greet your older brother.”

Marco peered around the door. A man who stood roughly Marco’s height was leaning against the doorframe. He shared some basic characteristics with Jean however had a thicker, more muscular build. The man smiled back at Jean, seemingly unaware of Marco’s presence.  
The man ran a hand through his cropped hair, furrowing his brows as Jean often did. “Is Ma home?”  
Marco felt himself internally shrink into himself. Had Jean mentioned an older brother? He didn’t see this coming at all. Should he introduce himself? Stay quiet?  
Jean nodded wordlessly to his brother’s question, wearing a matching furrow-browed expression. The man looked him up and down briefly before his eyes fell on Marco.

“Oh, hey.” He greeted passively. “Friend of yours?” He asked Jean. Jean opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Jean’s brother looked down, eyes fixated on Jean’s hand in Marco’s.  
“Well that’s an unexpected development.”  
Jean looked away, still not speaking, face and ears glowing crimson. Marco felt Jean’s grip on his hand tighten slightly.  
“James you should have called! Come here!”  
Jean’s mother appeared from around the corner, embracing Jean’s brother. James raised his arm in a halfhearted embrace. “You know how I am Ma,” he mumbled tiredly, still watching Jean and Marco.  
“Your father was hoping to get here earlier in case you had decided to stop by but-“

Jean pulled Marco from the doorway and into the far end of the living room.  
“Let’s put up the tree,” he mumbled distractedly. Marco nodded, not commenting on his strange behavior. Jean let go of his hand and busied himself with the ornament box. Marco glanced around at the boxes and the room helplessly.

 

“It’s not my fault you won’t stop growing.” Jean pouted, sitting beneath the half-dressed tree. Marco tucked another ornament into the further limbs of the tree. Jean reached into the box of candy cane, promptly sticking one in his mouth. “Want one?”  
Marco plucked a cane from Jean’s handful, navigating around boxes and stray candy. Marco hummed along to the Christmas tunes playing softly from the speakers Jean’s mother set up. He noted that Jean, despite himself, was whistling along cheerily to the tune; his mood a considerable contrast to earlier.

“Pass me the pack of stars Freckles,” Jean said through his candy. Marco slid the package over with his foot.  
“What kind of name is?”  
Marco almost leapt out of his skin. James edged around the corner, boxes in his arms and a confused expression plastered to his face. He put down the box beside the tree, standing practically between them.  
“It’s a nickname,” Jean said quickly, almost defensively.  
His brother held up his hands in mock offense. “My bad bro.”

Marco looked from one brother to another, making a mental note to ask Jean about his relationship with his brother. Marco went back to the tree, trying to be as unobtrusive as a tall freckled Christmas-tree decorator could be.  
“So is he your- uhm..”  
“..Yeah.” Jean mumbled, staring at Marco’s feet, face tinged with red.  
“So you’re…”  
“Yep.”  
“Do Mom and Dad…?”  
“Yep.”  
“Uh, good for you man.”

Marco could practically feel Jean recoiling from the conversation he was having. Jean grunted non-conversationally. His brother dismissed this with a frown and turned to Marco.  
“Hey, I never introduced myself properly, I’m James, Jean’s older brother,” He stuck out a hand, hanging in air for a shake.  
“Nice to meet you,” Marco took the hand in his own. “My name is Marco.”  
“Marco, what a cute name.” James replied nonchalantly. Jean shot him a death glare from behind the box of miniature snowmen.  
“Uh, thanks?” Marco replied, treading lightly. James was obviously joking but Marco couldn’t find an adequate reply to what he said.  
“Is it weird for me to ask which one is the girl in the relationship?”  
Jean stood up abruptly, no longer blushing.  
“I’m going on a walk,” He said, directed at Marco more than his brother. Marco stood sheepishly until Jean took his hand and led him across the house and to the entrance, leaving his brother alone in the living room.

 

“Sorry about him, he’s a bit obnoxious.” Jean fumbled with his lighter, hands shaking lightly from the cold air. Marco shrugged, that’s how brothers were, right? Jean puffed angrily on his cigarette, his pacing quickening.  
“So he didn’t know?” Jean shook his head.  
“He’s been overseas working with agriculture and livestock and weird shit like that. I never had the opportunity, plus we’ve never been really close.”  
“Ah.” Marco, gazed back at the house, growing smaller in the distance with each step they took.  
Jean followed his line of sight, staring back at his home. “What do you think so far?”  
“It feels…” Marco shrugged, “Normal, I guess.”  
Jean bit his lip thoughtfully.  
“That’s one way to put it. I guess I’m the outlier in that equation.” 

Marco shrugged again, feeling the cold begin to seep into his bones. Without indication Jean shrugged off his sweater and draped it over Marco’s shoulder.  
Jean had invited him into his home, given him warmth and comfort yet he was incapable of compiling words that could emphasize the warm feeling spreading through his chest,  
“Thanks,” Marco tugged it closer on his body, hoping the weight of the feeling behind the word was enough.  
“Don’t mention it,” Jean slipped his hand in Marco’s, nursing his half-smoked cigarette with his other.  
“Not just for the jacket, Jean, but for everything that you have-“

Jean moved forward, cutting him off and meeting his lips. Marco didn’t know if it was the sudden action, the taste of smoke or the sharp presence of the cold that shocked him more.  
“You’re so affectionate lately,” Marco said when he pulled away.  
“Uncharacteristically so?” Jean asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“To be honest, you surprise me so often that I couldn’t say for sure.” Marco said with a giggle.  
“I don’t know how to feel about that,” Jean’s smile shifted into a pout. Marco pecked the side of his cheek.  
“Let’s go back and finish that tree.”  
“Good idea Freckles, maybe dinner will be done.” 

They made it only a couple feet before a low rumbling filled the air as a silver sports car pulled up beside them. Jean craned his neck, peering through the window.  
“Jean, why the hell are you wandering outside without a jacket?”  
“Hey to you too Dad” Jean grumbled at the man looking up at them through the window. Marco stood awkwardly at Jean’s side, still holding onto Jean’s hand.  
“Are you smoking again?”  
Jean dropped the cigarette, burying it beneath his heel.  
“Nope.”  
Jean’s dad scrunched his nose before turning his attention to Marco, looking his up and down. “Would you boys like a ride home?”

“Stop messing with shit Jean.”  
Jean frowned, lowering his hand from the radio. The sigh that left his mouth was almost as tangible as the aura of annoyance in the air. Jean leaned back in the passenger seat and followed the sigh with a yawn.  
His father’s frown deepened as he drove but he didn’t say anything further to Jean. Jean watched as his father craned his neck, peering into the rearview mirror.  
“So you’re Michael, right? Or something with an ‘M’?” He asked, semi-distractedly.  
“It’s Marco, sir.” Marco looked away from the window, seemingly surprised that he was being addressed. Jean grunted, hoping the sound was taken for displeasure.  
“And you’re Jean’s boyfriend?”

Jean paled. If there was one thing his dad was good at was not beating around the bush. He peered back to see Marco nodding fervently to the question. Jean groaned at his enthusiasm. The prospect of being home any second sounded appealing apart from the fact his brother was there (presumably to ask more questions like his dad).  
“Ah, good. He could use someone to keep him in check.”  
“Well shit, Dad.” Jean grumbled, slouching in the seat.  
“Watch your damn mouth Jean,” His father mumbled absently, squinting at the trashcan in the road.  
“I wonder where I get it from,” Jean said, barely concealing a laugh. His dad let out a laugh as well, seeming to relax a bit more.  
“You have a point,” His father turned sharply, pulling into the driveway. “Well we’re glad to have you home, foul mouth and all.”  
He turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before turning again.  
“You too Marco,” He said with a smile.  
Jean couldn’t see Marco’s expression from his position but he could practically feel Marco’s beaming grin. He smiled to himself, what a dork.  
“Let’s get inside boys, I’m sure dinner’s ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of ran into a dead end with this story. I was hoping to pursue a plot I had planned but it didn't really plan out due to lack of continuity. Please stick around for more Jeanmarco fics though!


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